Thanks for nothing.
Under the waves she sleeps, eyes as white as snow.
Don't worry. You'll get away from her next time.
She will be perfect for Him.
This bloody Peach has gone rotten.
Home is where the heart is. Where is your heart, I wonder?
Go to hell.
July 31st, 1992 - Coronation Day...
Every time it begins, she is there, again and again and again...
He doesn't like to be kept waiting. Build faster next time.